


Home for the Holidays

by thunder_rolled_a_six



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Baking, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Family, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 20:52:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8938681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunder_rolled_a_six/pseuds/thunder_rolled_a_six
Summary: Bahorel isn't going home for the holidays for the first time ever. Thanks to Feuilly and his family, it's not as terrible as he thought it would be.





	

“Yeah, mom. Alright. Love you too. Bye.”

Bahorel tried not to be upset as he hung up the phone. The Bahorel family was scattered over the globe, so usually between all of them they had enough frequent flier miles to get home for Christmas, but that summer had been a huge reunion with nearly the whole family flying back to Oahu, and no one had caught the lack of available flights until it was too late. For the first year ever, he would not be going home for Christmas.

Whatever. It had to happen sometime, and he had just seen all his many, many aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews and grandparents and siblings that summer, and he would see them again come July. It was no big deal. He wouldn't be bothered not giving his oldest sister the cool motorcycle jacket he found for her in person. He could wait to surf against his cousin again and prove that he was totally better than him and that his failure last summer had definitely been a fluke. He did not miss his mom at all. Not one bit.

Except that he totally did and this was the worst and he now sat in his apartment on December 21st (the longest, coldest, loneliest day of the year) looking ahead at Christmas entirely by himself. The rest of the amis were off visiting their own or each other’s families, and it was really too late to ask one of them to join in, and anyway, how sad would that look? No, he resigned himself to his apartment and a marathon of Christmas romcoms. He tried to remember where his copy of Love Actually was when there was a knock on the door.

“Hey Bee, you home? I got off work early today, thought I'd come over. I brought take out!”

Feuilly. Cuddling with his boyfriend should cheer him up a bit. He went to let him in.

“It's Chinese, from the good place, I had a coupon and-” Feuilly's face twisted into one of surprise and concern as he saw Bahorel's expression. “Hey- hey what’s wrong? Is everything OK?”

Bahorel winced and tried to school his face into something less sad. He had never been good at hiding his emotions; his mom said he was an open book. Don't go there, dammit, don't think about home.

“Ah, I'm fine, really. Just- well, we thought we had a ticket for me to go home but the airline just now said we don't and it’s- it’s just a bummer. I mean- it’s not like Christmas means that much to us, Dad was raised Christian but mom’s side is all traditional Hawaiian religion, Christmas is just a day to hang out and give each other stuff, but I just wanted to be there. I'm all packed and everything.” Bahorel's voice definitely did not crack at all on the words. Feuilly frowned, taking his hand and leading him to the couch.

“I'm sorry. I know you were looking forward to going back,” he said as he put the food on the coffee table and dragged the huge fluffy blanket off the floor and over the both of them. “There's nothing you can do?”

“Nah. It's too late, there's no flights, and if there were they would cost a fortune. So I'm just gonna be alone this Christmas.”

“What?” Feuilly made a face. “No you won't be, you'll come home with me and Cosette.”

“Are you sure? Valjean won't mind?”

“Dad? Are you kidding?” Feuilly laughed, “I guarantee you as soon as I tell him he’s going to go running off to the store to get you a Christmas stocking. Nobody's going to be alone during the holidays.”

Bahorel nodded, feeling like things just might be ok.

***

“Daaaad! We're here!”

Bahorel was a bit nervous as he followed Feuilly and Cosette into the Fauchelevent house on December 23rd. He had met Valjean before but three or more days just… casually hanging out with his boyfriend’s dad struck him as intimidating. As soon as he got to the living room, however, he saw that Feuilly had been right about the stocking situation. Alongside three that looked very well loved was a brand new stocking with his name in puffy paint on the front. Valjean really was the nicest person around, Bahorel could see why Feuilly and Cosette were so great.

“Bahorel!”

Bahorel definitely didn’t jump a tiny bit before turning and seeing Valjean in the doorway. “Ah! Hello, sir, thank you very much for letting me stay with you-”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Valjean said with a smile that was almost saintly. Bahorel felt like he needed to review his recent actions and make sure he hadn’t done anything even slightly amoral. “No one should have to spend the holidays alone. We may not be your family but I hope you’ll feel at home here for the next few days. And please, call me Jean!”

“Thank you s- Jean. I really do appreciate it,” Bahorel said, trying to put as much sincerity as he could into his voice. Potential slight awkwardness aside, he was incredibly grateful to not be at his apartment eating the leftovers from the chinese food Feuilly had brought over. It wasn’t his house, it wasn’t his family, but it was warm and welcoming and the little aching-lonely feeling that had settled in his gut when his mom had called was beginning to unravel.

“Papa!” Cosette leaned into the living room, “Did you move the movies? I can’t find Eloise at Christmastime. It’s a tradition! It’s Christmas Eve Eve!”

“Already by the player, dear one.”

“Nice! Feuilly, it’s in here! Bahorel, you better get ready for adorable fancy hotel shenanigans.” Cosette practically waltzed into the room, grabbed Bahorel by the hand, and pulled him towards the large couch. Feuilly was a few steps behind, and soon Bahorel was sandwiched between the Fauchelevent siblings watching a six year old wreak havoc in the plaza hotel and drinking hot chocolate (with a generous sprinkling of mini marshmallows) provided by Valjean and forgetting, for a little while, to miss home.

***

“You could sleep on the bed with me, you know,” Feuilly’s voice drifted down through his dark bedroom.

“That would be weird!” Bahorel whispered back from his place on the floor, that had a clear view of the neon roller skates stuffed under the bed. He thought he had seen dinosaur stickers on them before the lights had turned off. Which matched the poster of what looked like a t-rex on the wall. Bahorel sensed a pattern.

“We wouldn’t do anything! Gross, this is my dad’s house. I just mean the floor can’t be very comfortable. And that sleeping bag was from when i was like, nine. There’s no way it fits you, you’re a giant.”

“I’m by the space heater, I’m fine,” Bahorel snuggled further into the child sized sleeping accommodations. “And it has dinosaurs on it. You had a thing for dinosaurs, didn’t you?”

“Maybe. Yes. The Carnotaurus is my favorite, it lived in South America and it had tiny useless arms! Like, T-rex arms were small but they were still really muscular, the Carnotaurus’ arms were probably vestigial, like, the tiny hands were even weaker than the rest of the already weak arm but they did have four fingers, which implies that they did have some evolutionary use-”

Bahorel did not get to sleep for another hour, but he learned a lot about creatures from the late cretaceous period.

***

Christmas Eve, Bahorel went down to breakfast in his sports bra. Usually he would wear his binder in new situations, but it was Feuilly and Cosette, and their incredibly kind and accepting father, and Feuilly said Christmas Eve was a day for pajamas and coziness, so Bahorel put on the sports bra (his nice one, with the cool red stripes on the side) under his loose and somewhat moth-eaten christmas tree sweatshirt and tried not to think about it too much. Breakfast turned out to be cereal which Bahorel also tried not to think about too much. He felt it would be rude to offer to cook in someone else’s house. It had been ages since he’d eaten Lucky Charms, anyway, and Feuilly was holding his hand under the table, so it was a good meal in his book.

“So what’s the Fauchelevent Christmas Eve list of activities? My family usually walks around to look at the Christmas lights in the neighborhood but don’t really have much other tradition to follow. You guys had, like, Christmas Eve Eve plans though…”

“Yeah,” Feuilly chuckled a little as he spoke, “Neither of us had great holiday memories before Dad, so I think he went out of his way to make every year great and special. Thus our, uh, itinerary. You should count yourself lucky, you missed House Cleaning Day, and didn’t have to take part in the December 19th Gingerbread House Decorating Extravaganza,” he gestured over his shoulder at three rather dilapidated but impressively tall cookie houses. “Today is baking, then the optional church visit, I go some years… That’s more Cosette and Dad’s thing, I’ll stay here with you unless you wanna go. Then we eat a lot of fudge that we always say we’re going to save for tomorrow and play card games.”

“Baking?” Bahorel tried not to look too excited, but Feuilly and Cosette both started laughing so he probably had not succeeded. “What kind of baking? What do you make?”

Cosette walked to the fridge and pulled out a roll of pillsbury cut and bake cookies, and laughed even harder when Bahorel’s face warped into an expression of horror.

“Don’t worry! We told Papa how much you like baking, and how good at it you are, and he stocked up on flour and sugar and eggs and stuff. This is just for the rest of us, who are unfortunately quite tragic in the kitchen.”

Bahorel felt his face go hot. “Oh- oh my god I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make a face, that was so rude, it’s your tradition, it’s your house, I have no place judging! He bought baking stuff? Oh god, he didn’t have to, I should pay him back, that-”

“Bahorel,” Feuilly took his hand again, and looked into his eyes very seriously, “Please. Please save us from shitty cookies. I can put sprinkles on like nobody else, but I can also burn water, you know this. Tradition is tradition, but there’s something to be said for edible food.”

Valjean entered the room and nodded in solemn agreement.

“Now you know the true reason we invited you to the house,” he said, “It’s our evil plot to get delicious baked goods.”

Bahorel couldn’t help but laugh, Valjean’s face was carefully schooled into a casual expression, but he, and his children, were all obviously waiting eagerly for approval.

“Well… Thank you! So much! You really, really didn’t have to, but I will do my best to provide you with quality deliciousness!”

“We’ll help! We won’t make you do all the work, you’re a guest,” Valjean said, looking relieved.

“Ok! Baking is better with fam- friends? Family? Uh.. Yeah! How about meringues first?” Bahorel internally winced at his mouth that sometimes decided to go right ahead without input from his brain as he turned around to look for sugar. “You guys got a whisk anywhere?”

The next few hours the four of them crowded the not-very-large kitchen and made all sorts of deserts. The Fauchelevents had all been very impressed with what happened to egg whites when whipped for a few minutes. Feuilly had been nervous when placed in charge of stirring fudge, but when he didn’t burn it even a little bit and poured it perfectly into the waiting tray he looked adorably proud of himself. Bahorel gave him a kiss on the cheek when he hoped no one was looking. Cosette sang “All I Want For Christmas” at the top of her lungs and the three boys tried to join in with varying degrees of success. The kitchen was the center of the Bahorel household, with everyone joining in to make meals, or to just stand there and talk, or to steal tastes before dinner. Bahorel felt close to home as he bumped elbows with Valjean and made Cosette laugh with a story about his youngest brother. By the time Valjean and Cosette left in the evening they had made meringues, fudge, two different kinds of cookies, and a cake, and Bahorel couldn’t stop smiling.

“How’s your holiday so far?” Feuilly asked, facing him on the opposite end of the couch where they sat halfway watching a hallmark movie. “Dad asked what you liked to do when I told him you were coming, and I know you like baking but I wasn’t sure if it was a holiday thing or just a… I dunno, whatever thing. An everyday thing.” Feuilly waved his arm vaguely, looking questioning. Bahorel bumped his foot with his own where they met in the middle of the couch.

“Baking was perfect. It’s… an everyday thing, I guess, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a special thing? I love baking and cooking with my mom and my grandma and dad, and my siblings join in, and… it’s a thing that feels like family, you know? Happy or sad, go into the kitchen and someone will be there to laugh with or comfort you or whatever. Thank you, for thinking of that.”

“It’s something we would do anyway,” Feuilly smiled, eye crinkle-y and warm. “Well, sort of. You definitely improved things. I’m physically restraining myself from going and eating all of those meringues before Dad and Cosette get back.”

Bahorel laughed and gestured to the tv. “This overwhelming heterosexuality and contrived plot isn’t distracting you enough? What’s this one even about? Is it where she’s a fashion designer and wants to marry a prince? Or the one where Santa, like… cursed her so she can’t lie? Or where she makes window displays in a fancy store? I’ve watched way too many of these and I think it’s been the same actress in every one of them...”

“Hmm, somehow no, not distracting enough. They should make a Christmas movie about us. Guy has to spend Christmas away from family for the first time, and is going to be all alone, but his charming boyfriend invites him to his house and they all bond over baking and the young, attractive love interests make out while the rest of the family is out.”

“Pshh, we’re way too multicultural and not straight for that, and the leads are never together at the beginning of the movie, and where’s the conflict, it would just be us hanging out being cute an- oh! You wanna make out?”

Bahorel supposed there were some benefits to being away from home for Christmas, namely kissing a cute boy who still smelled like sugar and chocolate and who kept breaking away because he was smiling too much to actually do any making out.

***

Valjean had ushered everyone off to bed before midnight, and Feuilly explained they always got up early on Christmas and helped distribute toys and clothes at a local shelter before celebrating the holiday themselves. Bahorel gladly joined in, though Feuilly had said he could stay home and sleep in. Bahorel got roped into a tea party with an enthusiastic young girl and her tired and grateful looking mother, and was sorry to go when Feuilly came to drag him away at noon. The girl gave him a huge hug, and Bahorel kept turning back to wave as they left.

They reentered the house through the side door that led into the kitchen, and Cosette started to make them all hot chocolate as Valjean went into the living room. Bahorel made to follow but Feuilly held him back.

“We gotta stay here. Christmas magic at work, yanno?” He said, a twinkle in his eye.

Fifteen minutes later Valjean called them in. Bahorel was a little distracted as he walked with a too full cup of hot chocolate, trying not to spill any (very good hot chocolate, too, the Fauchelevents all seemed to have a gift), so when he looked up as he bumped into the couch, he was very surprised. The room had been unchanged from the last few days when they had left the house that morning, but now the stockings were stuffed, there were presents under the tree, and with the lights all turned on and candles lit around the room, it did, indeed, look like Christmas magic had been at work. Bahorel stood for a minute, taking it in, before Feuilly waved him over to sit next to him on the floor. He took the stocking Cosette handed him, and discovered a soft scarf inside that matched the ones Cosette and Feuilly were pulling out of their own stockings. Bahorel happily wrapped it around his neck, despite it being California and 74 °F outside. He had put the presents he brought for everyone under the tree when he first arrived, and now passed them around the room. A Staves cd for Cosette (“Bahorel! Those harmonies!”), a book on the Haussmannization of Paris for Valjean because Feuilly had said he liked history and architecture and France and that seemed to cover all three. Bahorel hoped he liked it, he seemed genuinely pleased but he got the feeling he would react that way no matter what the gift. Feuilly bumped his arm and gave him a little thumbs up, though, so he figured it was a success. Feuilly unwrapped his present, a nice sketchbook and the specific pens he always lamented not being able to find in stores.

“You found them? I’ve been looking everywhere! And you got me three of each, you’re incredible!”

“Aw, shucks,” Bahorel ducked his head as Feuilly planted a kiss on his cheek and handed him his own present; a season 5 boxset of Person of Interest and a large chocolate bar with a written note apologizing for his faves being cancelled. Bahorel grinned and raised an eyebrow. “Ok, but we’re watching this together and I’m going to cry all over you and you’ll have to kiss me a bunch of times to make it better.”

Feuilly noded. “It was my plan all along.”

After getting his own copy of the same Staves cd from Cosette (“Yeah! Yeah! Those harmonies!”), and gloves to match the scarf from Valjean, Bahorel sat back to watch the family opening the rest of their gifts. He figured he didn’t have any more addressed to him until Valjean pulled a large box from behind the couch.

“Something from home,” he said as he handed it over.

“From home?” Bahorel looked at the box, and the writing on the label…It was his mother's. Unmistakable. Also it said “To Bahorel, from Mom (and everyone)” if he had any doubts. “How… how did this get here?”

Valjean smiled. “I got your mother’s phone number from Feuilly and offered to pay for the rush shipping fees. We thought we could bring some home to you.”

“Oh…” Bahorel peeled away the wrapping and opened the box. Inside was a smattering of gifts from his family. An blank recipe book from his mom, just like the one in her kitchen, with a few dishes penciled in. A silly tourist-y snow globe from his older brother, with whom he had been long competing with to find the tackiest one possible. Eyeliner from his little sister. There were also snacks and candies and a flower he knew was from their front yard and a little bit of sand, and Bahorel was definitely not crying a little bit at all, no way.

Except that he totally was, but it was okay because now he was under a hug pile of Fauchelevents and there were people in the world who would do so much to make sure he had a good holiday and he felt warm and happy and home.

***

“Yeah, Mom. Really. I had a really great Christmas,” Bahorel smiled as he held the phone up to his ear later that night, watching Cosette set the table for dinner. “I miss you guys too, but I’m having a good time. Thanks again for the gifts, sorry I didn’t think to priority ship my stuff to you guys. You’ll get them some time around New Years, probably.” Feuilly kissed his cheek in passing as he brought in dishes of food, and waved him over to sit down. “Gotta go Mom. I’ll call you tomorrow. Yeah, mom. Alright. Love you too. Bye.”

**Author's Note:**

> http://unhooking-the-stars.tumblr.com/post/154757253017/so-like-literally-a-year-ago-i-started-writing-a   
> Here it is on tumblr, with some art!


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